


Negotiations

by grey2510



Series: Misc SPN One Shots (<10k words) [6]
Category: Supernatural
Genre: Afterlife, Dean is dead from the beginning, Death from Old Age, Established Castiel/Dean Winchester, Future Fic, Happy Ending, I promise it's a happy fic, M/M, Post-Season/Series 10 Finale, Post-Series, but he died from old age after a happy life
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-06-12
Updated: 2015-06-12
Packaged: 2018-04-04 02:12:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4122223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/pseuds/grey2510
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What do you do with a hunter who's already made a Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory hat-trick?</p><p>Basically, Death brings Dean to Limbo after the hunter lives a long and happy life with Cas, and leaders of Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory try to decide where he should end up for eternity.</p><p>(So again, it's technically Major Character Death, but not in a sad way -- it's a happy fic!)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Negotiations

Death is annoyed. And bored. Typically when he deals with the eldest Winchester, the man has the good sense to provide suitable snacks. Those pickle chips really had been quite good. As had the queso and taquitos the hunter himself had prepared before his ill-advised attempt to kill Death instead of his younger brother.

But you can’t kill Death.

_Humans…_

In any case, he supposes it makes sense that Dean Winchester hadn’t had the chance to play proper host this time around, seeing as the hunter’s death, at an old age no one—not even Dean himself—had anticipated, is the reason for the current odd gathering of beings.

“Seriously, man? Does it really take this long to decide?” the hunter grumbles from his side. Despite the fact that Dean had lived until 88—he was practically as much of an antique as that car of his, as far as hunters were concerned—his post-mortem appearance in the endless white expanse of Limbo is more similar to the man Death had first met at a pizzeria in Chicago so many years ago (by human standards, that is).

The Horseman resists the urge to roll his eyes at the impertinence and pettiness of the man (after all, to do so would be rude, as he once informed the hunter), but it is impossible to keep the superciliousness from his voice. “You do realize how extraordinary the situation is, do you not?”

Dean cocks an eyebrow. “I’m dead and I’m still stuck with supernatural crap. Explain to me how this is at all different from any of the fucking shit I dealt with when I was alive. Or even most of the times I was dead.”

 _Insufferable human._ Death sighs. “In all of existence, never have I encountered a soul that caused this much…drama…in regards to its final destination. Of course, I have seen Heaven and Hell vie for ownership of a soul, but this is the first time the three reigning rulers of each afterlife have fought to _not_ take a soul. Congratulations, Dean Winchester: you are the least popular soul of all eternity.”

Dean’s eyebrows retreat to his hairline and he lets out a snort of laughter. “Wait, _that’s_ what they’re arguing over? None of them,” he says, jerking his head over at Crowley, Hannah, and the Leviathan previously known as Dick Roman standing about twenty feet away, “want me mucking up their playground?”

“Apparently not. You are a decidedly troublesome human.”

“Damn fucking straight,” the hunter replies with his chest puffed out. “Can’t you speed things up, though? I mean, you’re _Death_ for Chrissakes.”

“First, you should know by now that I have no control over where a soul goes after it has been reaped, nor do I wish to. Second, I do not suggest using such language if you hope to impress the delegate from Heaven.”

“Huh. Jesus is real, then?” Death just gives the hunter a look of deep condescension. Dean shrugs. “Shoulda figured. Guess it’s probably more surprising I never met the guy…you know, considering.” Dean waves a hand in the general direction of the three arguers. “So, what’re the points against me from each corner?”

“Would you care to listen?”

“Why not? Got nothing better to do. Plus, who doesn’t love hearing all their faults listed out?”

Death lifts a finger and the voices from the angel, the demon, and the Leviathan increase in volume, but the connection is only one-way; they will not be able to hear the conversation between him and the hunter.

“I believe the solution is simple from our side: the Winchester is a human, and therefore his soul has no place in Purgatory. This is purely logic and the rules of nature,” Dick Roman argues with that arrogant politician’s grin. “The matter is between Heaven and Hell. But of course, I’m _happy_ to mediate.”

“Fuck off, Roman. You and I did our deal in the past, we’re done. You’re not _mediating_ this.” The King of Hell turns from the Leviathan to the angel. “Hannah, he’s the bloody Righteous Man! _Your_ people are the ones who wanted him to play puppet for Michael! He’s _your_ fucking problem!”

“That was long before he took on the Mark of Cain and became friends with the King of Hell. Or released the Darkness, although you also played a role in that. Do not pretend that you and the Winchesters have not worked together on numerous occasions,” Hannah, in the appearance of her former vessel, Caroline, retorts. “I believe you fear you cannot control him, just as you could not when he was a demon.”

Dick Roman snorts. Crowley glares between the angel and the Leviathan, then smirks. “That’s bloody big talk coming from you, Hannah, as though Heaven has had any more success. And you, _Dick_ , shouldn’t be laughing, considering he and his angel pet sent your arse back to Purgatory. Then, way I hear it, he stomped around the place and became the monsters’ monster. Hardly a success story for you, either. At least the Winchesters and I have made civilized deals in the past and have reached an understanding.”

“Well that should settle it, then!” Dick Roman declares. “It sounds like Hell has a welcome spot for one Dean Winchester.”

“No. As much as I hate to say it, that arrogant twat of a hunter has a soul that’s too…ugh… _pure_ for Hell. Even as a fucking Knight of Hell, he was still more human than some of the humans I’ve had the displeasure of knowing. Squirrel and I had our fun, we howled at the moon, I’ve moved on. It’s someone else’s turn. Like Heaven’s.”

“Figures: Crowley is the only one’s got anything good to say about me. Seriously, this life…” Dean whispers to Death, clearly unaware that the others cannot hear them. Death informs him of this fact, and the hunter nods with a sheepish, “Oh.”

Hannah’s face twists in displeasure. “The man’s sins cannot be discounted. And he and his brother, along with Castiel, have caused much trouble in Heaven. They consistently disrupted the balance and rebelled against the Host.”

“Aren’t the angels and Heaven supposed to be forgiving?” Dick offers with mock innocence. But before Hannah can reply in earnest or before Crowley can get a sarcastic barb in, a new figure appears.

“Dammit, Cas…” Dean breathes.

Death raises an eyebrow. _Perhaps this will be interesting._

“I wish to advocate on behalf of the soul of Dean Winchester,” the trenchcoated being, who has shed the magical glamour he began adopting on Earth to appear closer to Dean's age, declares without preamble. 

Crowley rolls his eyes and sneers. “Of course you bloody do. Miss your boyfriend, do you?”

Castiel simply regards the demon coolly. Death looks over to the hunter, whose shoulders are tense and whose fists are balled at his sides.

“Are you really still ashamed of your perceived homosexual relationship with the angel?” Death inquires. “And when I say ‘perceived’ I am referring to the angel’s vessel and apparent gender, not casting doubt on the existence of the actual relationship.”

“What?” Dean sputters. “Hell no. Got over that a long time ago. It’s fucking 2067: no one gives a shit about that anymore. I just don’t like Crowley mocking it. Bastard.”

“I see,” Death replies, then returns his attention to the other four figures. “I do hope that your angel quickens this process. I may be an immortal being who hardly needs more time, but I would prefer to pass it elsewhere.”

“You and me both, buddy,” Dean grumbles. The Horseman's lip twitches upward imperceptibly at the moniker; only Dean Winchester would have the gall to call _Death_ something so casual and informal as "buddy." Then again, the hunter is most likely the only human from whom Death would allow such impudence; the Horseman must admit he has become somewhat fond of the man, in a strange way. Perhaps he has grown soft in his considerable old age, if a timeless being as powerful as he can have such a human designation as "age."

“Castiel, what right do you believe you have to do such a thing? Do you think you have any favors to call upon from the Host after the numerous times you have rebelled?” Hannah’s eyes narrow.

“Hannah,” Cas’ tone softens. “I know we have disagreed in the past, but I have always counted on you as a friend. You are a compassionate ruler of Heaven; you have done what I could not.”

Dick Roman chuckles and gives Crowley a knowing look. “Oh, this is good. Heaven’s Most Wanted appealing on behalf of a human by chatting up the angels' ruler.”

Crowley ignores the Leviathan's poor and false attempt at camaraderie, as does Cas, but Hannah regards the monster with smite in her eyes. “Do not presume to interfere in the affairs of Heaven, _Leviathan_.” She shifts slightly so her gaze is redirected to the other angel. “Speak, Castiel. Explain why you have come here.”

“I already have a claim on the man’s soul,” the angel replies simply, and his eyes flick to Dean. The hunter returns a crooked grin.

“I was wondering when this would come up,” Death remarks as though commenting on the weather.

“You knew about this?” Dean’s brows furrow.

“Please stop underestimating my power and knowledge, Dean Winchester. I have reaped you, I have dealt with you in death more than any other human—with perhaps your brother being the only other contender for that title. I know all there is to know about your soul.”

“So, when Cas says he has a claim on my soul, he’s not just being his typical nerdy chick-flicky self?”

“The mark on your shoulder may have faded, but Castiel’s Grace in your soul, his _claim_ , did not. I believe this is the only reason you were able to retain any semblance of your humanity even when you were overtaken by the Mark of Cain.”

“So I’m a freaky half-angel?”

“Hardly. Nephilim are the offspring of humans and angels, as you know, and if you _were_ a Nephilim, I am sure you would have been smote long before now.”

“Wow. Comforting.” Dean unconsciously rubs his left shoulder as he turns his attention back to the others.

“You have a claim on the hunter’s soul?” Dick Roman’s eyebrows raise, but he looks almost gleefully between the angels and demon.

“Yes. I'm…” Cas tilts his head and his mouth quirks up in a small smile. “I'm the one who gripped him tight and raised him from Perdition.”

Hannah scowls. “The human still retains your Grace in his soul?”

“Yes.”

“Well, that explains a lot,” Crowley murmurs. The demon throws a leer over at the hunter. “The pretty ones are always taken. But you can't blame a girl for trying.”

Castiel squares his shoulders and starts to move towards the demon, his angel blade sliding down from his sleeve. Dean tries to stop him, calling out to his angel. “Cas! Don’t do it, man. It’s not worth it. _He’s_ not worth it.” But Death’s one-way listening spell blocks the hunter’s words. Luckily, Hannah puts a hand on Cas’ shoulder, steadying him and pulling him back. The angel relents.

“Hm. This _is_ far more entertaining now, if not a bit like one your human soap operas,” Death observes. Dean gives him what he has heard humans refer to as a “bitchface.” The Horseman shrugs.

Hannah finally speaks after some consideration, once Cas is settled. “If what you say about Dean Winchester’s soul is true, then his rightful place is in Heaven. However, I have a condition.”

“Anything,” Cas replies promptly.

“Oh shit…” Dean mutters. “This crap never goes well. Cas…” He tries to move towards the other four, but Death snakes out a hand and grabs his forearm.

“No. You may not interfere.”

“Fuck that,” the hunter declares, trying to shake off Death’s grip, but stops when he realizes the exercise is futile. “Fine. Cas better not do something stupid.”

“My condition is that you must give up your Grace and reside with the hunter in his heaven. You will become his guardian and will ensure he does not disrupt the order of Heaven,” Hannah says solemnly.

“Oh fuck…” Dean mumbles.

Crowley snorts. “Good luck with that, love. Ironically, in our short-lived partnership, I’m the one who kept my end of the bargain. Castiel is…less than reliable.” The King of Hell regards the angel for a minute, then smirks, shrugs, and sticks his hands in his pockets. “Then again, if the deal is for Dean Winchester…”

“Like your deals with or for the hunter?” Dick Roman chimes in. “I’ve heard stories, Crowley. Anything for the Winchesters, am I right? What a wonderful…love triangle?...we have here.”

“Bite me, _Dick._ ”

“With pleasure,” the Leviathan replies, his jaw beginning to unhinge.

“Enough.” Death’s voice is quiet, but he forces it through the spell, and the gravity of it is enough to end the bickering. “Decide.”

“I thought you weren’t going to interfere?” Dean tilts his head to the Horseman.

“I’m not,” Death replies. “But I have no desire to see the current rulers of each plane devolve into killing each other.”

“I will do it,” Cas informs Hannah. “I only have one other concern.”

“Yes?” the other angel asks, cocking her head.

“The younger Winchester. Sam. If I am to give up my Grace for Dean, there will be no one to intercede on his behalf when he passes from the mortal world.” Cas’ stare leaves the other angel and he locks eyes with the hunter, who nods gratefully.

“Two for one with the Winchesters, huh?” Dick smirks as the angel and hunter break their gaze. Dean rolls his eyes and buries his head in his hand.

Castiel gives the Leviathan a puzzled expression. “Sam is my best friend, and he is the brother of Dean. Why wouldn’t I want to ensure he is safe?”

“Typical Cas,” Dean laments, although fondly, with a head shake. "That's not what the douche meant. And that's just...ugh. Sam's my _brother._ " The hunter shudders. 

“Sam’s soul will come to Heaven. It has already been decided,” Hannah asserts.

“Wait, what the hell?” Dean sputters. “How come Sam gets a free pass? Those angel dicks…”

Crowley, Dick, and Cas look as surprised as Dean. “Really? The boy with the demon blood is the Winchester who is assured a place in Heaven?” Crowley asks in disbelief.

“It is strategic. We have no wish for the soul of Lucifer’s vessel to be in any close proximity to the Cage,” Hannah replies.

“Those bastards,” Dean spits. “Sam only said ‘yes’ to save the world. Not like he wanted Lucifer to wear him to the prom.”

“Even if they cannot hear you, is it really important to question the reasoning in this matter if the outcome is what you desire?” Death asks.

“No…”

“Then I suggest you keep your concerns to yourself.”

Dean shoots Death a murderous glare, but he settles down and crosses his arms.

“I accept the terms of the deal.” Cas hands his angel blade to Hannah and exposes his neck to her.

“Hold on, can’t I just get a chance to talk to Cas about this first?” Dean pleads gruffly with the Horseman. “This is stupid. Him giving up his Grace over me. C’mon, I can’t let him do this.”

Death regards the hunter. “As the champion of free will—much to the consternation of the rest of the universe—you must allow the angel to make his own decision.”

“This is still bullshit. If I’m the champion of free will, how come I don’t get to interfere and make up my own damn mind where I spend eternity?”

The Horseman smirks. “Touché. Perhaps I have decided to exercise a little free will of my own and am curious to see how this ‘shakes out,’ as you would say, without your meddling. Besides, I believe the angel is a far better advocate for you than you would be. Perhaps delegating the task is in your best interest.”

Dean huffs, but doesn’t respond. He looks over to where Hannah is raising the blade to Cas’ throat, and the hunter screws up his eyes.

“You are dead, Dean. Observing an angel’s Grace cannot hurt you anymore.”

“Oh, right.” The hunter opens his eyes.

With a practiced motion, Hannah slits the delicate skin on the other angel’s neck and blue-white light pours out of the wound and into a bottle on a chain. She passes her hand over Cas’ neck and the slash heals instantly.

“I promise I will guard your Grace, Castiel. No harm will come to it. It is under the protection of Heaven.”

“Thank you, Hannah.” Cas gets unsteadily to his feet.

“Well, if this business is all done, I must return to my domain,” Dick Roman says, clasping his hands. In an instant, the Leviathan is gone.

“Best of luck, Castiel,” Crowley taunts, and he, too, disappears.

Dean looks at Death with a silent question. Death answers with a nod, and the hunter crosses to where the two angels stand. Hannah steps back as Dean approaches, and the elder Winchester grips Cas by the shoulders.

“You ok, Cas?” he asks, searching the angel’s face. “Why the fuck did you do that? You coulda had forever out there without being stuck up in Heaven!”

Despite the obvious exhaustion on the angel’s face, Cas still manages to give his hunter a _You’re a dumbass. And don’t fuck with me_ look. “Dean, even if I still had my Grace, what incentive would I have had to stay on Earth? I would have spent all of my time in your heaven regardless.”

“Well, I mean, yeah, I expected you’d come by to visit, but…”

“You are ridiculous, Dean Winchester. Years ago, when I said I would stay with you, I _meant_ it.”

“Oh,” Dean smiles. “Sorry, Cas. I’m kind of an idiot.”

“I’ve often thought so.”

“Fuck you, man,” the hunter grins and draws in the angel for a kiss.

Despite himself, Death actually finds the corner of his mouth lifting up a bit. _Well played, Dean Winchester and Castiel. Well played._

Without another word, the Horseman leaves Limbo and makes his way to a state fair. It’s been too long since he’s had a corndog.

**Author's Note:**

> I picked Dean dying at 88 because in 2067 Baby would be 100 years old and I'd like to think that Dean saw her reach her centennial.
> 
> Thanks for reading! Comments and kudos appreciated!
> 
> Check out my other works (sorted by series for easier navigation):  
> [Grey's works](http://archiveofourown.org/users/grey2510/series)  
> Come visit me on Tumblr! @[grey2510](https://grey2510.tumblr.com/)


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